


Complications

by Amahami



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Cutting, Fugitive Bucky Barnes, Fugitive Steve Rogers, Gen, Hydra did a number on Bucky, Mute Bucky Barnes, Selectively mute Bucky Barnes, Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, on-call psych helper friend Sam, somewhat graphic self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 11:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16618370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amahami/pseuds/Amahami
Summary: It's only been a few weeks since Bucky and Steve properly reunited and began living together in Morocco (a country with no extradition treaty with the US). The only way Bucky knows what's real is to cut himself; Steve finds out and doesn't take it well. Luckily, Steve has a mental health professional on speed dial.(this only covers the hour or two following Steve finding out. I may write more in the future)This story was written for the MCU Almost No Rules Bingo. I'm using card 4, and this fic is for square G1: can't help myself.





	Complications

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetStugLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetStugLife/gifts).



> This fic was all HoneySempai's fault, so you can thank them for this. XD
> 
> Shout out to [Luka](http://lukac0la.tumblr.com) for betaing this on such short notice! (Any mistakes are still mine)
> 
>  **Content Warning:** this contains semi-graphic self-harm in the form of cutting. A psychiatric professional tells Steve to let Bucky continue cutting himself. This is only in this incredibly specific circumstance, and I highly recommend that you seek help if you are hurting yourself. There are other coping mechanisms out there that are far safer. Please use those.
> 
> Please do not read this if it will trigger you.

Bucky had been living with Steve for a few weeks before he found out. He’d been holed up in the bathroom with the shower going, refusing to step inside it after another night of terrors. He couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t again, so he took a knife and swiped it a few times across his thigh.

The blood welled up and Bucky could already see the wound beginning to stitch itself back together. It would be totally gone in just a few moments, and now he was in the moment, and he knew he was in Morocco with Steve Rogers. He knew the year was 2016. He knew he was James Buchanan Barnes, and that he had parents and a sister and that he served in the war now called World War Two. 

Steve came crashing in, breaking the bathroom door down, shield in-hand. He looked around, checking all the nooks and crannies before looking properly at Bucky. He was Bucky crouched on the floor defensively, knife in front of him prepared to strike. 

“Shit, sorry, it’s just me.” Bucky slowly relaxed. Not much, but enough that Steve could see the blood and the healing cuts on his leg. 

It took Steve a few moments to work out what happened, but Bucky saw the exact moment he did, because his eyes widened and he turned his sad eyes to Bucky.

Steve shook his head and grabbed the smaller med kit out from behind the mirror and sat down heavily in front of him, making sure Bucky could clearly see what he was doing well before he did it. 

Steve turned the kit sideways before opening it. He took out a cotton ball and the bottle of isopropyl alcohol, handed them to Bucky. 

Steve turned back to the med kit and glared at it for a few moments. He knew as well as Bucky did that putting pretty much anything else on it was useless and a waste of supplies, and he hated that.

Once he was satisfied that the kit knew its place, he turned back to Bucky, who was still holding the alcohol and cotton ball with a confused look on his face.

Steve sighed and carefully took the items back. He opened the bottle and dampened the cotton with some alcohol.

“This is going to sting,” Steve said quietly. Bucky nodded mutely before Steve gently pressed the cotton ball to Bucky’s thigh. Bucky’s muscles didn’t so much as twitch as Steve pressed the cotton ball in for a few seconds before removing it, lest it heal into the cut.

He patted each cut a few times before turning the cotton so he could get the blood off the rest of his thigh. Then he sat back and put the cotton ball in the metal trash bin. It would have to be burned before they left the room, but right now there were more important things to attend to.

“Why,” Steve demanded.

“Know what’s real,” the Winter Soldier replied in a monotone.

“Fuck,” Steve mumbled, “I’m sorry Buck. I didn’t mean to- I should know better than- shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to order you to tell me. I just have no idea what’s going on, and I need to know before I can help.”

Bucky nodded once, short.

“Shit, I don’t- uh, okay. So I’m gonna sit here ‘til those heal up, then I’m going to go call Sam, okay? I mean-” Steve paused to phrase it just right, “If it’s okay with you, once they’re healed, I’m going to call Sam. Is that okay?”

Bucky still had no idea what to do with questions like that, so he just nodded.

Steve sat there and watched as Bucky scratched at where the metal arm met his shoulder.

The minutes passed by in awkward silence, Steve’s thoughts going faster than one of Tony’s jets, and Bucky’s thoughts pleasantly slow and calm. Bucky always enjoyed having no doubts of where or who he was. But it was beginning to ebb away, and the doubts would be back soon, though they’d be bearable for a while yet.

Steve waited until the cuts had healed just past freshly closed, and wouldn’t split back open by accident, before he stood up and put the med kit back.

Steve crouched down in front of Bucky. “Can I have the knife?” He tried to keep his voice as quiet as he could, hoping to avoid startling the traumatised man.

Bucky flinched away from him and curled protectively around the knife. Steve just nodded.

“I thought so. Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please don’t leave the building.” The building they were in was rather large, meant to be an office building but the business foreclosed before it was finished being built. Steve could just ask where he was and Bucky could either find him or reply and Steve could find him.

Steve waited for a response but received none. He went back to grab his cell phone and went to the top floor to call Sam.

“Hey Grandma!” Sam said cheerily. He must be at work. “It’s five thirty and you’re usually too busy to call ‘til eight. Is everything okay?”

Steve grimaced. “Uh, not so much. Think you could make a few minutes for me?” he asked.

There was some mumbling he couldn’t quite make out – Sam must have purposely muffled his phone.

“Unless it’s an emergency, I can only make five minutes. Is it an emergency?”

“Maybe? I honestly have no clue, Sam,” Steve replied. Even _he_ could hear the frustration in his voice.

The background sounds of the call changed when Sam switched the call over to the Stark networks.

“Alright Star, go ahead,” Sam said, giving Steve the okay to begin.

“I smelled blood. Woke up and smelled it. Panicked, you know – makes total sense — I grabbed my shield and followed it to the bathroom. I burst in, and Bucky’s there. At first I didn’t understand, but...” Steve took a deep breath, “There were cuts on his leg. I dunno, six, seven horizontal cuts, just starting to heal, still bleeding. The knife was still in his hand, blood only along the middle of one edge.”

Sam hummed, “Okay, so what did you do?”

Steve shook his head. “I grabbed the small med kit we keep in the bathroom, and I used rubbing alcohol to clean them out. We heal too quick for something that small to do anything more. So I sat with him until they were healed. Asked him why.

“Fuck, I ordered him to tell me why. He got that awful tone of voice, told me he did it so he’d know what’s real.” Steve panted like he’d been training.

“Is that everything?” Sam asked, voice calm and nonjudgemental.

“Yeah, yes, that’s everything.”

“Okay. I have some probable explanations, and a few options for you to choose from. You don’t have to choose from what I suggest, but any other options you’re going to think of will be detrimental.

“You’re going to hate every word of what I’m about to say. I want you to hear me out. You’re going to be angry and you’re going to want to yell. You can yell at me once I’ve said I’m finished. Understood?” Sam was using his no-nonsense voice, so Steve knew it must be serious.

“Understood,” Steve replied.

“It was probable that he was told his memories were hallucinations, that his thoughts were hallucinations, that everything but hydra was not real.

“Even if he weren’t, the things they did, for how long, that he is out and away and safe now, that would register in his brain as more likely to be a hallucination, especially if he hallucinated about escaping from them before, while still in their hands. That could be where he picked up the coping mechanism.”

“It’s not a-” Steve started, only to be interrupted by Sam.

“No, you don’t speak. You wait ‘til I’m done.”

Steve, stunned, stared at the blank wall in front of him. After a moment, he replied “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now then. I didn’t say it was a _healthy_ coping mechanism, just that it was _a_ coping mechanism. And right now, that might be the only thing keeping him grounded. Now, if I know you – and I do – you asked for his knife. That’s strike one. He may not give you another one.

“Your choices are incredibly slim, far as I can tell. You can support him, or you can push him away. I normally would never say anything like this, ever, but your circumstance is incredibly specific, and you’re probably the only person I’ll ever say this to:

“Let him cut himself.” Steve tried to interrupt, but Sam continually interrupted him until he stopped.

“Let him cut himself,” Sam repeated, “and help him learn healthier coping mechanisms, grounding techniques, the like. I’ll send you some videos and some books, and I’ll send you the research behind it.

“The important thing is that you know it’s happening and are there to make sure he’s safe. You’re going to be patching these up until he can find a healthier coping mechanism that works. And there are going to be relapses. But relapses are progress.

“Remember: progress isn’t linear. Right now it might look like a step back, but he’s recognising that his mind is in an altered state, and is making efforts to keep himself in the moment. You don’t want to dissuade that. Give him the space and the methods to figure this out.

“You take his knives away, he’s going to feel unsafe, he’ll probably have flashbacks, he might hallucinate, he might hurt himself with more dangerous objects. He might even run away.

“Ste- Star, listen to me. You want him to stay in your life, you gotta support ‘im, man. You ain’t got a choice. Ask if he’ll tell you when he does it, or when he needs to do it, so you can keep everything safe. Don’t stop him from doing it. Encourage healthier behaviours, but do not stop him. Not if he’s going horizontally. Do you understand me?”

Steve took a deep breath. And another. “Yes, I understand you.”

“Good. In your next delivery, I’m going to include another tablet. That is his. You are not to get into it, to ask him for it, to ask for his password, nothing. It is his. Got that?”

Steve hummed an affirmative.

“Okay. One last thing, then you can yell at me: don’t make him feel bad about this. It will only make him want to hide this from you, and that is not something you want to deal with.” Sam waited a moment before saying, “Okay, you can yell now.”

Steve took a deep breath, and blew it out all that once. “Sam, I- Damn it, I don’t want him hurting! I can’t just sit by and – I can’t help myself! He hurts, I stop the hurt. I can’t sit by. But I can’t lose him either! How can I just sit here and let him-” Steve stalled, looking for the right word, “-mutilate himself like that!”

“Star, I need you to take a big deep breath for me,” he waited until he heard Steve take a couple deep-ish breaths before continuing, “Okay. Hydra’s already mutilated him more than we can imagine. This is his own action, his own choice. He has to feel like he has that choice, no matter how you feel about it.

“He needs healthier options available to him, then we can help him stop. But right now, we need to keep him in the present. If he slips and turns into the Soldier, it could get far worse than we can handle.

“This is temporary. This is a stepping stone on the path of healing for him. Make your intentions clear. Tell him what I’ve said if he hasn’t heard already. Explain you’re worried, but you’d rather him in pain but here than back with those horrible people. Take care of him. Understood?”

“Understood,” Steve replied.

“Good. I’ve spent far too long on the phone, and I have a group to lead. Don’t act any differently, okay? Everything will be alright. I have a virtual packet ready with everything to send you. Give me just a moment and it’ll be in your e-mail. Talk to him first, then go through that.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Steve said.

“You’re welcome. Good luck,” Sam said, and Steve heard the door click open as the connection switched off the Stark servers. “Take your time in there and call me if anything gets worse, okay? I can be there if needed. I love you, Grandma.”

“You too, Sam.” Steve hung up the phone with a smile on his face.

He took a few minutes to himself, concentrating on his breathing. Once he was sure he was somewhere in the realm of calm, he went back down to their floor. Bucky was still in the bathroom, but he was staring into the trash can this time. Steve let his feet clomp down as he walked into the bathroom and looked into the can. There was a small pile of ash.

“Oh! The cotton ball. Thanks, Buck. I completely forgot. You wanna join me at the table so we can talk?”

Bucky inclined his head and followed Steve out. Steve sat in one of the four chairs at the small rectangular dining table, and Bucky sat on the floor next to the table.

Steve almost hid his grimace before he asked, “Is there a reason you’re not in a chair?”

Bucky nodded, and once he realised an explanation was what was asked, he said, “Bad.”

“This particular chair or all chairs?”

“All.”

“Right, okay...” Steve put his chin in his hand as he thought. “Would it be okay if-” Steve cut himself off before he started again, “Would it be okay if I sat in a chair while you sat on a bed?”

Bucky took a few moments to think that through. He shrugged.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Steve asked instead. Bucky nodded, so Steve replied, “Okay, would you rather we talk in my room or your room?”

“Yours,” Bucky said immediately. Steve nodded and stood, picking the chair up and taking it into his room. Once he was settled, he looked out the door and into the kitchen area where Bucky was standing at the table, at least.

Steve gestured with his head for Bucky to join him, and Bucky slowly approached his room. He paused in the doorway, looking around anxiously.

“You may come in,” Steve said clearly, loudly enough that Bucky could have no doubts that it was meant for him.

Bucky slowly entered, taking small, deliberate steps. He sat on the very edge of the bed, more crouching than sitting. Steve would take it.

“Okay, so… Did you hear my conversation with Sam?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Okay, so Sam said I should let you keep going as you have been. However, he said I should ask you to please tell me before or immediately after you, uh...” Steve floundered for a moment, awkwardly waving his arms, “Cut yourself.”

Bucky just stared at him.

“It’s important to be safe. Safe as you can be, anyway. This way I can make sure you don’t need stitches, and I can clean them so they don’t get infected.”

Bucky gave him an incredulous look.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Infections are inconvenient but never inhibit the Asset’s functions, and to waste medical resources on a machine is a ridiculous idea,” Bucky said in a German accent.

“Bucky,” Steve started, and reached his hand out before yanking it back. “Bucky, no, no, you’re not a machine. You’re a human. My best friend, my equal, my-” Steve cut himself off. Whispered, “My everything.”

Bucky looked at him with confusion written all over his face, but he said nothing.

“I just want to take care of you. Can you please let me do that?”

Bucky studied his face for a few moments before nodding.

“You’ll tell me before or immediately after you cut yourself?” Steve asked to confirm.

Bucky nodded once.

“Good, thank you. Okay, Sam sent us something stuff to watch to help you. That will help us learn how to keep you grounded without hurting you. You don’t-” Steve paused and swallowed. “You don’t have to stop cutting your- yourself, but… Maybe these will help you not need it.”

Bucky nodded just slightly.

“Okay, do you want to watch these videos now, go back to sleep, or eat?” Steve asked.

Bucky thought. “Eat,” he said almost firmly.

Steve grinned. “Alright, I’ll go make us some breakfast. Omelettes and pancakes?” he asked.

Bucky nodded, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

It was quite a while before any big steps were made, but all the small steps Bucky counted and were equally important. Every step towards being well he took, every struggle, every breath, every fall. It all lead to leaps and bounds over time.

And Bucky might never be healthy, but he was healing.

**Author's Note:**

> They have beds and a dining table with chairs, but that’s about all they have right then. In their “delivery” they get a couch, some armchairs, a desk, and a beanbag chair.
> 
> Please do not hurt yourself, and if you need help, please seek it out. A mental health professional or a hotline for this kind of thing is super important. Please stay safe <3
> 
> I may add more to this at some point, but I'm not promising anything, because usually writing this kind of thing triggers me pretty badly. If I do add more, it'll be in this same fic, so if you subscribe to this you'll be notified.
> 
> If you're interested in participating in the MCU Almost No Rules Bingo, you can find more information on it [here](https://mcualmostnorulesbingo.tumblr.com/post/179821196380/welcome-to-the-mcu-almost-no-rules-bingo).


End file.
